


Soul Phrase

by GoneRampant



Series: RWBY Rarepair Week Stories [3]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blake says she doesn't give a fuck but Blake lies, Demonic Possession, Demons, F/F, F/M, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, It's only Sephora in the loosest sense of the word, Like Supernatural But Not Shit, M/M, Neo doesn't give a fuck, Soul Bond, Soul Magic Bullshit, Supernatural Elements, so many tags so little time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 15:19:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12083763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoneRampant/pseuds/GoneRampant
Summary: Years after an encounter with a demon gone horribly wrong, Blake's just apathetically drifting, waiting for the end of the line. Problem is, Neo isn't quite willing to let her self-loathe herself into the grave. Part three of a series of stories I'm doing for RWBY Rarepair Week.





	Soul Phrase

“That is the tenth demon summoning this week holy shit.”

* * *

 

When you see one attempt at a demonic possession, you’ve really seen them all. Be it the abandoned crypt, the dilapidated apartment or the haunted manor, the possessions tended to blend together for Blake. After the tenth, it was hard to even bat an eye. Not much changed between them, barring the growing feeling of… emptiness that she felt as she considered what her life had become since that night.

Really, the only things that did stand out at a possession was the amount of blood she’d get on her shirt, the silent car drive back into town (why did all the demon shit have to happen at least an hour outside of town?) and Neo’s steadily growing smile each night.

The mute had shown up a few months after Blake’s first run in with the supernatural. Despite her efforts to get the young woman to leave her alone, Neo would always wind up finding her again. Never saying a word, just looking at Blake with those twinkling multi-coloured eyes. Blake had chalked it up to some poor exorcised person whose soul got too entangled with their roommate and got severed. Apathy and exasperation finally won out and Blake stopped slamming the door in Neo’s face (and she needed the extra rent). Neo turning out to know a few spells was icing on… well, a Neapolitan ice cream.

And this was why Blake never went into comedy.

Neo was driving the car this time, letting Blake rest her head on the window and try and get some sleep. Her tattoo was flaring in pain, so she’d just have to ride the wave until it passed and then she could get a bit of sleep. She’d been on her feet a lot the past few nights, but that wasn’t new; sometimes groups would come in packs and Blake would be lucky enough to get them all in one night, but if they scattered, it meant a few nights of driving around all the farms and magical hot spots while keeping an eye out. Neo had offered once to do it all alone, but Blake shot the idea down fast.

Probably because this was all she really had to live for. Most people didn’t look forward to demonic infestations and summing rituals in lieu of having of an actual life or reason to live. And it wasn’t like she was going to a good place when something finally killed her. Her soul was too tattered for anything but a scorching hot pit where the screams would reverberate for eternities-

Blake jerked awake, the nightmare already forgotten but leaving its mark. She hissed as her markings flared up, the interior of the truck illuminated by the soft orange glow through her clothes. Several narrow, thin lines that ran along her collarbone and looped along her right hand, alongside a jack-o-lantern on the small of her back.

Neo looked over, eyebrow raising.

“I’m fine. Focus on the road.”

A silent shrug before Neo complied, leaving Blake to run her hand across her face. The light died down, casting the truck back into a harsh shadow that left everything in stark black and white. Even Neo’s vibrant pink streaks seemed almost muted, save for the occasional car in the opposing lane or the rare streetlight that light everything up for a few tantalizing seconds before it was back into the black.

Blake’s apartment was above an antiques shop (she had an appreciation for clichés and buildings with big enough floors that she could draw good summoning circles), with a parking space in the back. Blake really wanted to sleep, shower, eat and maybe even do all that in order like healthy people, but she didn’t want to get out of the chair. She rested her head against the headrest and groaned softly.

Her door opened. Neo reached over, popped off her seatbelt. “Get off,” Blake mumbled, struggling and failing to put up a fight as Neo dragged her out of the car. Neo presumably planned to carry her to her room.

Unfortunately, Neo was smaller than Blake, and nearly dashed Blake’s skull on the ground in her efforts to carry the taller woman.

Unfortunately as well, Neo had magic. Thus, Blake found herself being dropped harshly on the small balcony that was part of the hallway. Much like Blake’s life up to this point, it was unceremonious, painful, and burdened with an overtly large amount of analysis and brooding monologues.

Blake was content to lay where she fell until the sun roasted her, before a pair of heels jabbed her back into consciousness, just in time for Neo to grab her arm and drag her into the apartment.

They’d done variants of this before on particularly bad nights- carrying each other up here when one of them was too tired to climb the stairs. Blake usually just dumped Neo on the couch (with a blanket, she wasn’t a monster), but Neo? Neo had to one-up her and actually put her into bed.

Blake knew Neo was running on less sleep than her, so it was frankly unfair how competent the mute was at carrying Blake to bed and peeling off her blood-stained clothes.

What shattered that competence was when Neo took off Blake’s shirt to reveal the gash that was beginning to pulsate.

“Oh.” Blake murmured flatly. “Forgot about that.”

Neo slapped her, fury evident on her face. She hadn’t been this angry during the heat wave which nearly crippled her due to a lack of ice cream. Blake felt kinda proud of that.

Neo worked fast, grabbing the first aid kit. Blake wanted to tell her not to bother, that it had been nearly an hour and a half since the knife slid off her ribcage. Even if Neo had been topped up on magic with a surgical team on standby, she didn’t have enough magic or skill to restore the blood. The only option which even had a hope of keeping her alive was so insane even Neo wouldn’t consider it-

Which was when Neo tore her glove off, taking Blake’s hand in hers while locking eyes. Like her eyes belonged to two different people, Blake saw two different things.

She saw Neo, eyes softening a little and glazing as the soul merge began and their spirits intertwined. Her marks were flaring up, some hot pink, the others brown or white. At the same time, from Neo, she saw herself. Bruised, bloodied, her right side light up in orange light making her eyes shine, and shrouded in the black of her own soul, with orange creeping in at the edges out of the corner of Neo’s eye. But the pink, and the white and the brown flowed in, smoothing out the coarse edges and focusing on her chest wound. Even a few seconds in, the dull pain had faded away.

Blake shuddered as her eyes rolled up. She’d done some soul bonds before, and this was always her least favourite part; the invasion of privacy. Neo and her would be able to see the other’s memories, and neither of them would be able to know which ones. She tried to keep out, but a few glances wormed their way in regardless; altars, sacrificial knives and robes, desperate sprints through woodland areas, a bargain whispered on bloodied lips that couldn’t speak to anyone of this realm. A flash of eyes, silver and shining with unshed tears as Neo screamed within her mind as that was the one place she could scream; a fractured self, left to hang like a broken mirror.

What caught Blake was the sense of wholeness that surrounded Neo’s memories of after she met Blake. Regardless of the circumstance or context, it was like comparing frayed old photographs to a smartphone camera in quality. She didn’t want to look, this wasn't hers to see, and she really didn’t want to think of what this meant for Neo’s feelings on Blake.

The bond faded between them, and Blake found herself in bed, Neo’s face pressed into her back. Their marks still glowed softly, orange mixing with the kaleidoscope of Neo’s magic to paint the dark room. The sun was starting to come up, but the blinds were mercifully already down. Blake felt experimentally at her side. A slight twinge of pain met her touch, but it looked like a wound well into the process of recovery. Her hand ghosted against the mark at the bottom of her back and she shivered, vividly recalling unpleasant memories that were left buried before Neo accidentally unearthed them.

* * *

 

_The Latin felt heavy in her mouth as she screamed it into the void, voice addled with pain as Roman’s nails dragged down along her arm, leaving bloody gouges that began to leak blood. Even as he was dragged away, her snagged her face._

_“This won’t save you,” he ground out. “Locking me away inside you is a death warrant. I’ll break out of your wretched shell when it decays and drag you down into the pits with me? You hear me?! When you die, I’ll be there to greet you!”_

_Blake’s head surged forward, slamming into his nose as she continued the incantation. Slowly, like a thousand butterflies flitting away or flowers scattering their petals, Roman broke apart. The wind died down. Light returned to this fractured hole in the world, a few shards of purple magic hanging in the air._

_Blake looked at her arm impassively as the black light that signified her magic brightened. She paled as it morphed into a vibrant orange, starting to howl anew as a searing mark carved its way across her lower back. She caught a glimpse in the mirror as she writhed and buckled on the ground, pain overriding her. A jack o lantern._

_“See ya soon, kitty cat,” the wind seemed to whisper as she lost consciousness._

* * *

 

Neo stirred, and Blake turned to face her. She waited for Neo’s eyes to be open. “Thank you.” The words felt heavy in her mouth. “That was dangerous, though. You could have died if I bled out while the bond was active. Was that worth it?”

Neo placed a finger on Blake’s mouth, shaking her head. The look in her eyes made it clear where she stood on the subject- that she’d do it again.

“Whatever you saw when you went looking… look Neo, I’ve taken out a lot of debts in this life, and when I die, lots of people will come collecting to argue over my soul. I’m not the sort of person you want to hang around with for long periods.”

Neo shook her head again. Her sign language was hard to read from this angle, but Blake got the gist of it.

“You’re not the only one who’s broken. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Neo rested her forehead against Blake, intertwining their fingers. Blake could almost feel Roman cackling in the back of her teeth at the idea of claiming Neo’s soul as well when she inevitably got them killed. She was damned, she’d accepted that. She’d pushed away Yang to keep her safe for this exact damn reason.

Blake sighed wearily. To hell with it. And her. “Alright then,” she breathed. “what’s the plan?”

Neo flashed her a smirk right before kissing her. Her intent was clear through it though.

"Let's just live."

**Author's Note:**

> Of all the Rarepair Week stories, this is the one I want to write for in future the most. I have so many ideas about this, as I'm sure some of my friends can tell you given how much I talked their ears off.


End file.
